


etudes: a study in falling

by sssammich



Category: The Bold Type
Genre: F/F, Inspired by Poetry, Writing Exercise, dedicated to kat's oversized blazer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 04:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15162995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sssammich/pseuds/sssammich
Summary: the four times kat fell in love, and the one time adena already did.





	etudes: a study in falling

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to the short accompanying playlist on spotify if you feel so inclined: [etudes playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/croissaintsday/playlist/3cm0DyGBtiBwfj8NC7xUeQ?si=S3rk7PKeQfad6LHjTYfxJg)

**_etudes: a study in falling_**

**_(or the four times kat fell in love, and the one time adena already did)_ **

 

 

**\--||--**

 

**_carpe noctem_ **

 

Skin on skin.

Tangled limbs.

 

The remnants of a passionate night blanketed by the moon and streetlights.

 

In the aftermath, Kat’s still busy hands find new work in tracing down Adena’s body, a slow and winding trip across the geography of her form, goosebumps populating the path in the wake of contact.

 

It starts at Adena’s soft temple, to her pinked cheek, to her exposed collarbone;

 

to the corner of her shoulder, to the dipped curve of her waist;

 

to her God-given hips, to her muscled thighs, to her bare ankles.

 

She stops at each one and plants a tender kiss, a thank you letter to Adena’s body.

 

Once she completes her trek, she returns her attention to Adena’s face and observes every inch of it. Adena’s dark tresses splayed on the pillow, a midnight halo highlighting her face.

 

She gazes from the peaks of Adena’s brows down to the tips of her lashes, down to the slope of her nose, down to the curve of her lips, all the way down to the point of her chin.

 

You’re something else, she says.

 

Adena’s eyes are closed, but her smile is wide and soft.

 

Am I?

 

She nods despite Adena not being able to see her. She reinforces her claim when she places her hand on Adena’s waist and turns the both of them so she rests on top.

 

Eyes still closed, Adena’s legs wrap around her, their naked skin coming in contact and setting her ablaze.

 

I’ve never met anyone like you, she says.

 

Adena’s eyes flutter open; her face doesn’t break out into anything, but the twinkle in her eyes exposes her all the same.

 

She pushes herself up just enough to situate herself right on Adena’s chest before placing her arms on either side of Adena, protecting her, holding her in place.

 

Adena instinctively wraps her arms around and completes the hold they have on one another. Adena’s lips press on her forehead and she closes her eyes in response, savoring the moment.

 

The side of her face is nestled between Adena’s breasts, her mouth just inches away from Adena’s heart.

 

She follows the rhythmic beating and lets it lull her to sleep, her thank you letter to Adena’s heart resting just behind her teeth.

 

**\--||--**

 

**_audere est facere_ **

 

she listens for one thing,

she hears another.

 

It was inevitable, Kat reasons. Despite her best attempts at talking herself through the insecurities (the way she learned, the way she taught), the doubt festers underneath her ribcage and strangles her lungs.

 

Kat can’t help but think between the last and the last for now.

 

Kat can’t help but think about the however many women.

 

Kat can’t help but think that there are women in this world who have

 

memories--

 

experiences--

 

stories--

 

that she’ll never have of-with-about Adena.

 

Kat’s afraid of becoming who she replaced. Kat’s afraid of what she could be; (the last for now).

 

Kat’s fears push out of her mouth and tumble at her feet, hewing and hacking away at her steady foundation.

 

My love, Adena starts, her soft yet unwavering voice forcing itself to be heard against Kat’s drumming heart in her ears.

 

Kat’s eyes are wide open; she afraid to miss even a single second. Adena cups her hands around Kat’s face like an open prayer.

 

I do not leave anything to chance, she continues. I cannot afford to do anything else.

My choices are mine.

 

Please.

 

I chose you. I am choosing you.

 

I will choose you.

In this life.

In the next.

In the next.

 

**\--||--**

 

**_in vino veritas_ **

 

She has a habit of watching Adena.

 

Her eyes always zero in on Adena whenever she’s in the room. And she just...watches.

 

Like when she would be brushing her teeth in the bathroom first thing in the morning and she watches Adena shift around in bed. Like when Adena extends an arm out on the empty spot beside her that Kat occupied just minutes before. Like when Adena rubs the sleep from her face and opens her eyes in winks and searches for Kat around her. Like when Adena’s face lights up when she finds Kat at the corner of the room with toothpaste on her mouth.

 

Like when she is working on some last minute stuff on her computer and she catches Adena heading for the space beside her on the couch, even though she’s quite engaged with a Teen Vogue magazine in her hand. Like when Adena sits on her legs and props the magazine on her thighs. Like when Adena stretches out her hand and places it on Kat’s back and starts to rub it, gentle and meandering.

 

What’s wrong, she asks. Two seconds later, Adena looks up at her.

 

Nothing.

 

Like when Adena reaches forward while pulling Kat towards her and planting a soft kiss on her cheek.

 

Like now, when she is sitting on one of the dining table chairs with her second glass of red wine in hand while Adena ruminates on the photo prints spread out in front of them.

 

Adena’s attention is focused squarely on the photograph prints and she doesn’t mind, being in the sidelines, watching Adena work. Her own concentration is spent elsewhere.

 

Her gaze follows Adena’s lips pursed in thought as she deliberates on each print.

 

Darling, Adena starts. Can you hand me the loupe in my bag, please?

 

She obeys, uses her free hand to rummage through the bag beside her.

 

Adena reaches out with an open hand, engrossed with the work in front of her to look up.

 

Instead of a simple pass, she pushes herself on her elbows carefully (so as not to spill herself and her wine all over the photos) and lifts her head to place a kiss in Adena’s open palm instead.

 

Adena’s head snaps up in surprise, an amused smile washing over her features. Adena raises her hand to Kat’s face and brushes her thumb over the smugly proud smile on Kat’s lips.

 

Adena maintains the contact - the touch - and walks over to Kat’s side. She pushes Kat’s shoulders back and raises one leg over until she’s straddling her. She instinctively wraps her arms around Adena who has wound her own around Kat’s neck.

 

Does someone want attention, she asks.

 

She watches her now, Adena’s face in full view right in front of her.

 

I didn’t at first. But if I have it now…

 

She watches Adena’s eyes flutter shut as she inches forward just so -- just enough for an invitation. She takes one last look before closing her own eyes, tightening her hold, and accepting Adena’s invitation.

 

**\--||--**

 

**_alis propriis volat_ **

 

She sighs.

 

Another news article, another linked video of blind and lethal hatred.

Like a broken record with no way of unplugging.

Constantly there, constantly buzzing around them.

 

She closes the computer lid and takes the whole thing off of Adena’s lap.

 

Let’s call it a night, she says.

 

Adena wordlessly follows suit and burrows herself to Kat’s side who readily pulls her close; a tether.

 

She kisses Adena square on her lips; a reminder.

 

Kat knows and doesn’t know; her never-ending struggle in limbo.

 

She brushes Adena’s hair out of her face.

 

Hey, you ok?

 

Adena nods, but she’s grasping to get even closer.

 

In these particular moments of broken spirits and no resolve to fight, she doesn’t know how to be strong beyond the walls of their home.

 

So Kat protects her from within. Builds a moat around the bed, a safe haven for a princess on a queen.

 

She places kisses on shoulders exhausted from carrying the inescapable weight of pride, heritage, and spite.

 

She gently caresses the back of a woman whose sole purpose is to fly from a world that only wants to burn her wings.

 

She holds Adena until the daybreak.

 

**\--||--**

 

**_via lactea_ **

 

Adena has many, many labels.

 

She proudly wears each and every single one.

 

Her heart plastered on her sleeves; her cards all on the table.

 

She lives a somewhat nomadic lifestyle, one could say. A moment, a memory; here and there.

 

She has nine lives, and she wants to use them all. Live to be a thousand years old.

 

The experiences building on each other, until she has a staircase to heaven where she plans to greet Allah in thanks.

 

But somewhere along the way,

 

along her adventures,

along her lofty undertakings,

 

she discovers someone she can only deem as a blessing.

 

Honey, I’m home.

 

The corners of her lips twitch into a smile, three simple words bouncing around in her chest like pinballs. She walks towards the living area and takes a spot on the couch as Kat unravels herself from underneath her layers of clothing, of stories.

 

Adena sits and listens, quiet and attentive. Once Kat has settled into her most comfortable self, she sinks into Adena’s open and waiting arms.

 

Tell me about your day.

 

Adena obliges, caresses the side of Kat’s face as she recounts her ordinary day. When she finishes, no more than half a minute later, she feels Kat’s even breathing on her chest.

 

She leans back so she can support the two of them better. As if on cue, Kat wriggles into a more comfortable position in her arms.

 

You’re not what I thought, she thinks.

 

She frames this exact moment in her mind, a snapshot to store in her memories to look back on in a thousand years. One of countless others.

 

Adena closes her eyes, focusing on rise and fall of their synced breathing. Her head facing Heaven in deep, unbridled gratitude.

 

**\--||--**

 

**Author's Note:**

> A writing exercise for the truly rusty. 
> 
> Thanks to my friends who read it over before letting me set it out into the wild!


End file.
